


Summer Snapshots

by tunamayo



Category: Free!
Genre: Birthday Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 07:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15092315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tunamayo/pseuds/tunamayo
Summary: Makoto goes to spend the night at Haru's for his first birthday since moving to Tokyo. He has two presents to give, but one of them might be too embarrassing after all.





	Summer Snapshots

The ride from Makoto’s apartment to Haru’s is relatively short and simple. And luckily, as Makoto observes while stepping inside, today the train is nearly empty. He always feels awkward carrying a large bag on a crowded train, trying to keep it as much out of everyone's way as he can while also struggling to keep his balance. 

But since there’s no one else around, he sits down and sets the duffel bag on the floor between his legs. The pajamas inside would have easily fit in his backpack, but the real purpose of the bag is to help carry Haru’s two birthday presents.

He checks his watch. It's the same orange one that Haru bought him for his own birthday nearly five years ago. Someday it will stop working, but he thinks even when that happens, he'll probably hold on to it anyway. He's glad to see he’s only running a few minutes late.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he knows of course it’s Haru. It’s a message telling him that dinner is almost ready. Makoto replies that he'll be there soon, but he doesn't bother asking what's for dinner because he knows it's definitely something featuring mackerel. 

He wonders if he might have time to stop at the bakery by the station to pick up a small chocolate cake. Even though Haru wouldn't be too interested, it might be nice to have dessert.

_BZZZZ._

Another message: "You should be getting off the train at this point. If you're late, you don't get dessert."

Makoto laughs; he hopes the dessert doesn't also feature mackerel.

As he looks out the window, he notices the sky is gray and overcast with streams of sun poking through the wispy clouds. He smiles; it’s not a depressing gray. It's the comforting kind, a sky that teases the possibility of light rain.

It reminds him of summers spent with Haru when they were kids, canceling their plans of bike rides and explorations without hesitation, because it was just as fun to stay indoors playing make believe and taking long naps.

It didn’t seem that long ago, which makes it hard to believe that he and Haru are at university now, living in Tokyo of all places. Today is Haru’s first birthday away from home, which Makoto insists is rather exciting. Then again, he’s always excited about Haru’s birthday. 

Ever since he was a kid, too young to shop without his parents, he has loved picking something out to celebrate his best friend’s birthday. Being able to give Haru something that he appreciates, to see his face radiate, to see him that genuinely happy—how could he not be excited about something like that?

The scenery outside passes by quickly, and he thinks about how life is very much the same. Everything is just a blur, gone in a second. One minute he and Haru are seven years old trying to catch slippery frogs in the pond, and the next they’re adults studying to prepare for their futures.

When the train comes to a stop, Makoto hurriedly gets off. He feels bad making Haru wait, so he walks as fast as he can with the bulky bag on his shoulder and the heat thoroughly engulfing him. He regrets the button-up shirt he’s wearing, a foggy grey to complement the weather. Even though it’s thin and the sleeves are rolled up, it’s too hot for this. 

Thankfully, the station is close to Haru’s apartment, which is convenient for the sake of time but also for the sake of the suffocating summer weather.

When he reaches the apartment, he gives the door two soft knocks to signal his arrival and opens it slowly. Haru stands at the kitchen counter, talking to someone on the phone. It looks like he has just finished grilling some meat. He glances at Makoto and gives a small smile to greet him. 

"Well, Makoto's here, so I should go," he says to the person on the phone. “Mm, I will." He hangs up.

"Was that your mom and dad?" Makoto asks, walking through the kitchen to the sitting area. He sets his bag by the couch and returns to see what Haru's cooking. Whatever it is, he knows it smells incredible, but he can't quite identify it.

"Mm, they said to tell you they hope you're doing well," Haru says, reaching up to pull two plates from the cupboard above him. "Dinner's almost ready, so you can have a seat."

Makoto moves to the table and sits on the small pillow. It’s a little strange that Haru has to do his own cooking for the two of him on his birthday, but it’s also probably what he prefers. One day, Makoto thinks he’ll be able to surprise him with a nice meal.

When Haru sets down the plates, Makoto finally realizes the familiar smell of ginger. Mrs. Tachibana loves cooking with ginger, so he knows immediately where Haru must have gotten the recipe.

“Your mom gave me the idea, so I hope you like it,” Haru confirms. Every other week, she sends him a recipe. It might be something new she’s tried cooking for the rest of her family, something she saw that sounded good, or something she’s made before that she knows Makoto likes.

“Is this squid?” Makoto asks, picking through the lightly grilled meat and brightly colored vegetables. 

“Is that ok?”

Makoto laughs. “Of course! I was just expecting your favorite, not mine.” 

Haru did consider mackerel, of course, but all he can say is, “Your food’s going to get cold.” 

Makoto chuckles again and starts to eat without pushing it any further. 

“Amazing, Haru! It tastes really good!”

“It was easy to make. I’ll teach you.” Haru blushes, unsure if it’s from Makoto’s praise, the thought of cooking together with him, or the million other thoughts that are suddenly racing through his mind.

After dinner, Haru sets their dishes in the sink and returns to the table with a small chocolate cupcake and some milk for Makoto.

“It really is starting to feel like my own birthday,” Makoto laughs.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Will you at least have a little? Please, I’ll feel guilty if you don’t.”

Haru smiles. If it will somehow ease Makoto’s mind, of course he’ll do it. He leans over as Makoto holds the cupcake closer and takes a bite. Even though it’s not overly sweet, there’s no way he could eat the entire thing, so it’s impressive to watch his friend devour it in three huge bites.

Once he’s finished, he looks at Haru and laughs. 

“What is it?” Haru asks.

Makoto starts to reach his hand toward his face. “You have some frosting on your nose.”

Haru turns away, embarrassed, and quickly wipes it off. “You set me up for that.” 

“I didn’t mean to,” he laughs. That may have been true, but it was still a good consequence. Seeing Haru embarrassed is always cute.

Makoto finishes his milk and then moves to the small couch behind them. It’s a bit generous to call it a couch when it’s more of an oversized chair. It can fit two people comfortably, but Makoto is closer to the size of a person and a half, so the two of them sitting together pushes it to its limits.

“Come sit so we can do presents,” he says, scooting to the corner of the chair to make room and unzipping his bag.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” Haru repeats this every year, but of course Makoto never listens.

“I know I don’t have to, but it’s fun, isn’t it?” Even if Haru himself doesn’t realize it, Makoto knows how disappointed he would be not to receive some sort of gift from his best friend. 

Makoto removes a large box wrapped in shiny blue paper. Haru watches him take it out and catches sight of the pajamas in the bag, and then he quickly realizes that Makoto must have forgotten what they talked about two weeks ago.

“Oh…” Haru lets out, bracing himself for Makoto’s heartbreaking look of disappointment. “Remember? I have early practice tomorrow morning.”

Makoto feels like an idiot. He won’t be spending the night after all. “Oh!” He laughs nervously, feeling his face flush. “Practice. You did tell me that. I must have forgotten.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine!” he says in a voice that’s an octave higher than one that actually is fine.

Every birthday since Haru turned five years old, Makoto has spent the night with him. That birthday was the first time he had a friend over to celebrate with him and his family, and of course that friend was Makoto. Back then, when it was only the two of them, they were too excited to part ways after a day of food and fun. Plus, they wanted to keep playing with Haru’s new toys together.

As they got older, and more friends and classmates joined in, Makoto would always stay after everyone else had left to help clean up. They both enjoyed having that time to spend with just the two of them. It also helped Haru relax after being the center of attention all day. 

But things are different now. Makoto understands, reluctantly, that they have different responsibilities. He looks into his bag for a moment and spots the other box inside wrapped in the same blue paper. He thinks it’s best to zip it up quickly before Haru can see it. He returns his attention to the gift in his lap.

“Happy Birthday, Haru-chan!” he says, handing him the box.

Haru is always impressed by Makoto’s presents. When they were kids, he always managed to find fun toys that Haru would never think to ask his parents for. And as they’ve gotten older, he finds things that are practical yet also personal. He smiles, noticing how perfect the wrapping paper is. As a kid, the paper was bulky and crooked with too many pieces of tape. But now everything looks crisp, as though Haru had done it himself.

Makoto watches intently as Haru gently peels off the paper to reveal the contents—a new set of kitchen knives.

“These are really nice,” Haru says, smiling. Once again, Makoto has somehow chosen the perfect gift. It was something Haru definitely needed, but not something he’d end up buying for himself.

“They’re ok?”

“Mm. They must have been expensive.” Haru recalls Makoto picking up extra shifts at his part-time job recently. It must have been to pay for these.

“Ah, it’s fine. You’ve been using your old set for as long as I can remember. And you’ve been cooking for me, too, so I thought I probably owe you.”

It is true that Makoto comes over a lot to eat, but he doesn’t owe him anything for it. Besides, he usually helps with the preparation the best he can, and they take turns buying groceries. 

Haru sets the box down on the other side of the chair. He swears there was something else in Makoto’s bag, but he has it all zipped up like that’s the end. 

“There was another one, wasn’t there?” Haru asks, and can tell immediately by Makoto’s surprised expression that he wasn’t supposed to notice.

Makoto laughs nervously. “Oh, yeah…” He takes out the box, smaller and flatter than the first gift, and wonders if he could somehow toss it out the window and make it look like an accident. What was he thinking with this? It’s too embarrassing.

But once he hands it over, there’s no going back.

When Haru unwraps it, he’s initially confused. It’s a small thin hardcover book. The front a grassy green color, completely plain. It looks like an unused journal, but when he opens it, he discovers the white pages aren’t blank.

The first page under the cover has a single line written in Makoto’s neat handwriting, small, right in the middle of the page. It says very simply “Happy Birthday, Haruka.”

He flips the page and his chest tightens. On the left, there’s a picture of Makoto and Haru from Haru’s fifth birthday. They sit on the floor playing with the small plastic animal figures that Makoto picked out for him. Makoto has his eyes squeezed shut, laughing about something, and Haru looks at him, mouth open in a small laugh of his own. 

Looking at the picture, he can’t help but smile a little. He remembers this, vaguely, and searches his brain for every single detail about that moment, but it’s been too long gone. 

On the page beside it, Makoto has written out a description of the picture. He says he remembers going to the store with his mom to pick out the gift and immediately chose the set of safari animals because he knew when they played together, they could make the animal sounds, and he wanted to hear Haru roar like a lion.

Haru looks back at the picture and remembers now why Makoto was laughing so hard. He holds a little toy elephant in his hand, so it must have been when they were both trying and failing to make the proper corresponding noise. 

“Do you remember it?” Makoto asks, noticing Haru’s small smile. He hadn’t said anything since unwrapping the present, completely engrossed with curiosity at this gift Makoto was trying to hide.

He nods, finally tearing his eyes away from the book to look at Makoto, his huge body balanced on the corner of the couch right beside him. Haru moves over a little to make more room. “Is it ok to go through the book right now?”

“Together?”

“Yes.”

Makoto smiles, elated that Haru is that fascinated by it. It seemed like a silly gift, but now he’s glad that it didn’t get left behind in the bottom of his bag. He moves over to sit right beside Haru, their legs touching in the confined space.

Turning the page, they’re a year into the future and it’s Haru’s sixth birthday. This one must have been taken just shortly after they fell asleep in Haru’s bed. They lie closely together, each holding a stuffed animal between the two of them.

Haru touches the stuffed bear he’s holding in the picture. “Pooh-san…” he says, remembering the books and movies they watched featuring the silly old bear Pooh and all his friends. That’s right, he recalls. This was the year that Makoto gave him that stuffed animal. He had his very own stuffed Piglet, Pooh’s very best friend, and there it was in the picture, too, being held tightly in Makoto’s tiny arms.

“Before I left home, my mom wanted to go through some pictures with me,” Makoto explains. “That’s when I got the idea for this. It was fun going through them all, and she remembered a lot more details than I did.”

Haru smiles. “It’s good that our parents took so many pictures.”

They flip to the next page, and the next, fast forwarding through time in minutes. 

Outside, it starts to rain, soft and low, musical almost, with its gentle hum of raindrops in a steady thrum against the window. It’s quiet and calm and yet, it nearly drowns out Makoto and Haru’s hushed voices. There’s no reason for them to speak so delicately, but this is where their words settle best. 

Makoto takes notice of the sudden rain and lifts his eyes from the book to glance at Haru. He’s had a smile on his face the entire time, small, but definitely there. The overcast sky fills the living room with just the right amount of light. 

His heart starts to race as he realizes, objectively, how intimate this moment is. The two of them sitting close together, catching glances at each other, reminiscing together while their faces are this close together.

It’s beautiful, he thinks. This moment is beautiful. Haru is beautiful.

And then Haru’s looking at him, and Makoto realizes he was staring, gaping, at those brilliant blue eyes peeking out from under his bangs, at the curve of his jaw, the slightly parted lips. Makoto looks away quickly. Their faces are close enough that Haru can probably feel the heat as it rushes to his cheeks.

Thankfully, somehow, Haru doesn’t seem to notice. Or if he does, it’s too embarrassing for him to even acknowledge. 

And then, after what somehow seemed to be both so much and so little time, they reach the end of the book. The final picture is one that Haru has never seen before. It’s a candid shot taken by Rei—or so Makoto’s description says—just one year ago from today. Their backs are to the camera as they sit on Haru’s porch. He can almost smell the fresh hydrangeas, and catches glimpses of them in the picture. 

The sky glows orange as the sun sets in the distance, Makoto staring straight ahead toward the horizon. Haru can’t see his face, but he knows he's smiling. Haru’s head is turned to look at him, mouth hanging slightly open as he listens completely invested in every word.

The memory is still fresh. Makoto was talking about how excited he was for their last year of high school. Of course, neither of them knew at that time where they’d be right now, but Makoto was certain they’d always end up together.

And he was right.

He and Makoto will always be bound together, no matter how far apart they are. But he doesn’t want them to be far apart.

Like he’s done so many times before, Haru looks at Makoto with his heart. But this isn’t just a glimpse like those other times. He thinks that after this, he won’t be able to look at him in any other way. It’s times like this that he feels the most vulnerable, and that fear, that need to shut himself off, creeps in. But this time, instead of looking away, instead of running, he faces it.

“You should stay the night,” he says, voice wavering not out of uncertainty for the request, but for the unknown consequences that are sure to follow.

“Are you sure?” Makoto asks. 

“Yes.”

“Just because it’s tradition—“

“I want you to.” 

He responds quickly, with pleading sincerity. This isn’t an invitation based on obligation. His heart is telling him that Makoto absolutely has to be with him tonight. 

Makoto beams with understanding. _I want you here with me._ Those are the words Haru's too embarrassed to say. But before Makoto can offer a response—though he doesn’t really know what to respond with exactly—Haru stands up.

“I’m going to the kitchen to wash the dishes,” he says, walking so fast he’s practically in the kitchen by the time he finishes saying it.

He’s clearly embarrassed, so even though Makoto thinks he shouldn’t have to do his own dishes after doing the cooking on his birthday, it’s probably best to let him go ahead and do it. 

After a few minutes, when the water from the sink turns off, Makoto gets up to join him, assuming Haru has had more than enough time to do whatever it is he needed to do.

“Is there popcorn left from last time?” Makoto asks, opening a random cupboard.

Haru’s heartbeat quickens at the sound of Makoto’s voice, but he manages to calm down quickly. He dries his hands and locates the popcorn in another cupboard, handing it to Makoto. “Don’t burn it,” he warns before letting the box go.

“I won’t!”

Haru returns to the living room to set up the movie they planned on watching together. He pauses the TV at the beginning, taking notice to the sound of popcorn popping fewer and fewer kernels.

“Makoto,” he calls out. No answer aside from the hum of the microwave. “Makoto!” Louder this time, and then the microwave door opens.

“I wasn’t going to burn it!” comes the adamant answer from the kitchen.

Haru laughs. Makoto getting worked up about silly things is always cute.

Makoto walks out shortly thereafter holding a bowl full of popcorn that Haru thinks smells just a little bit burnt, but it’s not worth fussing over.

Usually on movie nights, one of them sits on the floor while the other sits in the chair, but they both agree without mentioning it that tonight, they’ll resume their positions from earlier. This time, instead of a book between them, it’s a bowl of popcorn.

As the movie plays, the popcorn diminishes. Makoto’s and Haru’s hands get closer together. Every now and then, they lightly brush against each other as they reach for the snack at the same time. Outwardly, Makoto pays it no mind, but inside, he can feel his heart flutter each time it happens.

It’s not long before the bowl is emptied and then moved to the floor out of the way. And after that, Makoto has no idea what’s happening in the movie, because all he can focus on is Haru’s hand, specifically how close it is to his own as they both rest on their respective thighs. 

The rain outside continues, now with the added low rumbles of nonthreatening thunder, but all Makoto can hear is his heart beating against his ribcage. Haru yawns, diverting Makoto’s attention away from his hand for the first time in what feels like forty-six hours.

“You can lean on me if you’re tired,” Makoto says. 

What Haru does next will help him gauge whether or not he wants to take the next step. So he’s both delighted and terrified when Haru smiles and shifts so that his head rests against Makoto’s shoulder, cheeks flushing just a little.

And then, after what was surely another forty-six hours, Makoto slides his hand over Haru’s. There’s no flinching, no sounds of surprise—instead, Haru turns his hand over to let their palms touch and nuzzles against Makoto’s shoulder.

After that, Makoto has no idea a movie is even playing, because he’s holding hands with Haru. It’s warm and dry and his fingers probably taste like popcorn, and now he wants to jump out the window because why is he thinking about the way his fingers taste?

Once the initial shock wears off—which thankfully was not forty-six hours—Makoto smiles. He’s sitting with his best friend snuggled up against him while they hold hands.

And the sun outside is falling, along with the rain, along with Makoto—falling, falling, so fast and so deeply, falling more and more for the person sitting beside him.

He doesn’t want the movie to end, not because it’s a good movie—it could be, who knows at this point what it was even about—but because they absolutely have to interrupt this moment and get ready for bed.

There’s a worry running through him that when he wakes up the next morning, things will somehow be reset, and everything that happened tonight will be forgotten.

Haru shifts beside him to sit upright again, yawning. They break their handhold so Haru can stand up.

“We should probably sleep,” he says, stretching his arms over his head.

Makoto resists the urge to reach out and hug him. “Right. You can take the bathroom first. I’ll finish cleaning things up out here.”

Haru agrees. Once he’s finished getting ready to sleep, he instructs Makoto to take his turn while Haru gets the futon ready.

They’ve never spent the night at Haru’s before; it’s always been Makoto’s. Unlike Makoto’s apartment, Haru’s has a loft where his bed is. But this complicates things, because he doesn’t know what to do with the futon. There’s no room up top, as his bed takes up the majority of the space. And to have Makoto sleep down here… it just seems so far away. They won’t be able to talk to each other easily.

A few minutes later, Makoto emerges from the bathroom. He looks around but doesn’t see Haru anywhere. And then he notices movement above him.

“Haru?” he calls out.

Haru crawls to the edge of the loft. “Well… it’s too much trouble to get the futon ready. Just come up here.”

_In your bed?!_ Makoto screams internally.

_That’s what he means, right?!_ he argues with himself.

_Hurry up, you idiot!_ he says.

“Hurry up,” Haru echoes, leaving off the insult that Makoto couldn’t spare himself. 

So he climbs up the ladder, steps creaking under his weight, and sits next to Haru on the bed. He’s too tall to sit up completely straight, which Haru notices right away and lets out a tiny uninhibited chuckle. 

“Don’t laugh at me!”

“Giant.”

“I’m going to sleep!” 

He climbs to the inside of the bed closest to the wall. Haru turns off the lamp and lies down beside him, facing him so they can talk. Makoto notices a small light on the ladder, which keeps the space from becoming completely dark.

“Did you really like your presents?” Makoto asks, feeling the sleepiness starting to seep in.

“Of course. I always do.”

“Wait!” Makoto sits up so fast he almost hits his head on the ceiling. “We don’t have a picture from your birthday today.”

“That’s true,” Haru says. He turns on the light and grabs his phone. “This will have to do.”

Haru moves his head to Makoto's pillow, their heads just touching, as Haru holds the camera above them to take a quick picture. He pulls the photo up for them to view.

“We look awful,” he says honestly. The light is too dim and coming from an odd angle, casting weird shadows over their faces. Not to mention they’re visibly tired.

Makoto laughs. “We do. But… I like this picture.”

“Me too.”

He turns off the light again and lies down. Simultaneously, he and Makoto scoot a little closer to the center of the bed toward each other. And then a little closer still. Makoto moves his leg forward until his foot meets Haru’s. 

A part of him wants to ask Haru if he can kiss him, but another part says not to. Luckily, though, the loudest part of him is yelling at him to just do it already. He smiles, slowly looking into Haru’s eyes and catches a glimpse of his own smiling face as Makoto moves even closer. They laugh quietly, happily, as they rub their noses together and clasp hands.

They bring their lips together, and Makoto can’t believe it, but they’re actually kissing. It’s gentle—not hesitant, just careful. Because even though it feels natural, it’s new and terrifying and wonderful. And with that kiss, Makoto feels like they’re running now, together, from the path they’ve been slowly veering off of their whole lives with every tender look and touch and feeling they’ve shared.

When Makoto pulls back, he doesn’t know what to say. He thinks he probably doesn’t really need to say anything. He reaches up to press his thumb against Haru’s lips.

“You’re smiling, Haru-chan.”

Haru takes his hand and gives it a kiss, smiling even wider. “I am.”

“You’re happy.”

“That’s right.”

For Makoto, this is the happiest he’s ever felt. He wants to stay up and kiss more, but it’s getting late, and Haru has an early morning. Besides, with everything that has happened tonight, he’s certain that Haru is just as exhausted as he is.

“Will you wake me up before you leave tomorrow?” Makoto asks. The thought of waking up and seeing Haru gone, without even a chance to see him, makes his heart race. He places his hand on Haru’s hip, sliding it to his back when Haru moves and presses right up against his body.

Haru nods against him, and without saying anything else, they slowly drift to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

The next morning, Makoto hears Haru’s voice calling out to him. He opens his eyes, confused at first. There’s light in the apartment, though it’s still a bit dark up where they are. Haru sits on the bed next to him with his hand on Makoto’s shoulder.

“What time is it?” Makoto asks, trying to understand why he’s being woken up.

“7.”

“Too early,” Makoto mumbles.

Haru smiles. “You can sleep in. I left a plate of food in the fridge if you want to warm it up for breakfast. And then when I get back, we’ll go out to lunch.”

Now he remembers. Haru has practice. He told him that last night. Before the book, and the rain, and the—oh, that’s right. The kiss.

“I’m leaving, ok?” Haru says before pressing a kiss against Makoto’s forehead. “But I’ll be back.”

_I’ll always come back to you. _Even though his mind is muddled with fatigue, Makoto knows the true meaning behind those words.__

__“Have a good practice,” he says, closing his heavy eyelids. “I love you.”_ _

__He hears Haru slowly descend the ladder, stopping for a moment before reaching the very bottom and continuing again. Footsteps, a jacket being zipped up, and then the door._ _

__Makoto’s eyes shoot open. _I love you. Had he said it out loud? He speaks the words quietly to himself, seeing if they feel familiar.__ _

___He definitely said it!_ _ _

___He feels conflicted; the words were honest and true. It wasn’t a mistake to say them. They just would have been better said under different circumstances, not right before Haru goes to practice._ _ _

___What if it ruins his concentration? What if he can’t swim well? What if they kick him off the team?!_ _ _

___Makoto laughs and covers his face with his hands. He’s exaggerating the potential consequences, he knows. And then, just as he wishes Haru would come back to ease his frantic mind, the door opens. Did he forget something? Footsteps again, a jacket unzipping, and then the ladder. Everything is in reverse, like time is rewinding, giving Makoto the chance to undo what happened just moments before._ _ _

___Haru climbs into bed, and there’s not much Makoto can do but stare, completely confused._ _ _

___“Haru, what’s going on?” he asks, not even trying to conceal the confusion._ _ _

___“I talked to my coach. He said it’s fine if I make up practice next week.” There was no way he could go, not after everything that happened. He absolutely needs to be with Makoto right now._ _ _

___“Are you sure that’s ok?” It’s his fault. He knows it’s his fault, and he feels incredibly guilty._ _ _

___Haru places his hand on Makoto’s cheek. “It’s not a big deal. There’s no way I’d be able to focus for practice. We’re both responsible for that.”_ _ _

___And then he leans in for another kiss, like he’s been dying to do since approximately one-tenth of a second after their first one ended. But Makoto quickly moves away._ _ _

___“Wait, I haven’t brushed my teeth yet! It’s gross!”_ _ _

___Haru smiles softly. “There’s nothing gross about you,” he says, moving a little closer. “Except for whatever that is hanging out of your nostril.”_ _ _

___Makoto covers his nose. “Stop it, Haru! There isn’t really anything there, right?”_ _ _

___“Come here, I’ll get it for you,” he teases, laughing, trying to pry Makoto’s hand away._ _ _

___Makoto fidgets, his face flushing bright red, but he can’t help giggling. “Stop it! Are you being serious? Just hand me a tissue!”_ _ _

___Haru laughs even harder; he’s adorable. “I’m kidding. You can move your hand.”_ _ _

___Makoto does as he’s instructed. His heart beats rapidly from the commotion, and he probably won’t be able to resist another kiss if Haru tries again._ _ _

___And thankfully, he does._ _ _

___Their lips press together, mouths parting, tips of tongues just barely touching. Their hands are in each other’s hair, and Makoto thinks he could get used to waking up like this every single day, though just having Haru beside him would be more than enough._ _ _

___They separate, with Haru giving one more kiss to the tip of Makoto’s nose, eliciting a small giggle from his boyfriend._ _ _

___Birds chirp quietly in the trees, telling them it’s time to get out of bed. But the sunlight doesn’t quite reach the loft space, which makes it all easy to ignore. More importantly, Makoto doesn’t want to get up. Falling asleep next to Haru and waking up next to him is the best feeling, he has discovered._ _ _

___Though Haru doesn’t look particularly eager to get up, either, he does look like there’s something on his mind. Makoto gives him a moment to find the words or the courage or whatever it is he needs._ _ _

___“I…” Haru starts, simply enough, already too embarrassed to look Makoto in the eye. “I couldn’t leave. Not after what you said.” Or rather, what Haru didn’t say in response. “I… I also…”_ _ _

___“Haru, you don’t have to say it,” Makoto interrupts. “It’s ok.”_ _ _

___“We both need to stop thinking like that,” Haru says, slightly irritated. “We don’t do things for each other because we have to. It’s because we want to. Because we care about each other.” He takes Makoto’s hand and places it on his chest. “I’m telling you I love you because I don’t want you to ever doubt that. And because it makes you happy to hear it. And most importantly because I mean it.”_ _ _

___Before he can see Makoto’s response, he rolls over, turning away to hide his face._ _ _

___Makoto knows everything he said is true. He moves against Haru, embracing him with his arm and tangling their legs together. “I’m sorry. You’re right. And… it does! It makes me really happy to hear you say that.”_ _ _

___“I’m glad. Now, let’s sleep.”_ _ _

___Makoto gives Haru a gentle squeeze. He takes a second to focus on the moment, the feel of Haru’s soft skin, the warmth of his body, the scent of soap. When they wake up, it will still be today, and there’s something about that Makoto finds comforting._ _ _

___But even if their lives are just a blur, even if he can’t make time stand still, he knows that in the moment, the days won’t seem quite so fleeting. Even if the past only exists in snapshots in their minds, as long as he and Haru keep moving forward together, their future memories are infinite._ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I really hoped to write out brief descriptions for each picture from the book and add that here in the notes, but NO TIME. :(


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